Dreams of Tomorrow
by adamwhatareyouevendoing
Summary: "She waits until everyone else has gone up to bed before she approaches him by the fire, needing to talk to him in peace." Baxter shares the events of the day with Molesley. Follows on from 6x08, with spoilers from the episode.
1. Chapter 1

She waits until everyone else has gone up to bed before she approaches him by the fire, needing to talk to him in peace.

He looks up when she takes her seat opposite him, his eyes sparkling at her in that friendly way of his, but his expression becomes quizzical as he sees no change in the hollowness of hers.

"Is everything alright?" he asks, echoing his earlier question.

"No," she admits now, and he's surprised to see tears welling in her eyes.

"Miss Baxter?"

She stifles a sob in the back of her hand, unable to look at him for fear she truly will break down.

"Phyllis?" he asks more urgently, the name slipping unchecked from his lips in his urgency to console her, or at least for her to let him know what's wrong.

She finally looks at him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you earlier," she sobs out. "Mr Carson doesn't want everyone to know. But you deserve to. If it wasn't for you he might have –" She stops herself, unable to say the word.

Molesley looks panicked. "What's happened?" he asks, alarm colouring his voice.

"It's Thomas… He – he tried to end his own life," she chokes out.

He can think of no words to accurately express his horror, stutters out some surprised exclamation. "How did you –?" he asks, unable to finish the question, not sure if he's ready to hear the answer.

"I found him," she says, and he can see the horror in her eyes – can't imagine what it must have been like. "Andy helped me break into the bathroom. And it's thanks to you we were in time, Mr Molesley." He doesn't understand until she clarifies: "When you mentioned what he said to you, it just struck something within me – his face this morning, it set me on edge, and then when you said he was acting oddly, it just clicked."

Her face looks so tortured he cannot stop himself from reaching out – taking her hand. To his surprise she clasps it tightly, as though desperately clinging on.

"I'm sorry," he says eventually, when he finally manages to find his voice and speak around his thudding heart.

"What for?" she asks.

"I should have figured something was wrong sooner – said something to you sooner… Then maybe it wouldn't have happened." He continues, "Or I should have gone with you, helped you."

She cuts him off with a squeeze of his hand.

"It's not your fault," she tells him. "You said something in time, that's all that matters."

"Still, I feel awful for my cheeriness over dinner… If I'd known…"

"You've no need to feel awful," she assures him. "I don't begrudge you your happiness at all – I'm really glad you had a better day today, you deserve it." She gives him a small smile, and he's reassured by even the simple gesture, feeling as though the ground is righting beneath their feet again.

"It was all down to you actually," he admits.

She looks at him in surprise.

"You said I should just tell the children about being in service, so I did. It turns out they respected me far more after that."

Her proud smile warms his heart.

"I didn't do too badly at moral support then?" she asks, with a twinkle in her eyes – finally something more than that dreadful emptiness.

"You did wonderfully," he murmurs. "Without you, I don't think I would have had the confidence."

"You probably don't need me now," she blushes. "But I'd like to walk with you again tomorrow – if you'd like."

He realises he still hasn't let go of her hand – squeezes it now in reassurance.

"I'd like that a lot." He manages to check himself before he adds 'And I do need you'.

"I should go and check on Thomas before I retire to bed," she muses.

"I'll go with you," he says hurriedly, trying to sound nonchalant and failing.

She raises an eyebrow in question.

"He said something else," he admits. "I wasn't going to mention it, not after everything, but I don't want him to say something first…"

"What is it?" she asks, and he hates the note of worry in her voice.

"It's nothing bad," he quickly adds. "It's just, he said I should be brave and tell you how I feel…"

A gentle smile breaks onto her face. "Then tell me tomorrow," she murmurs. "I promise I'm not trying to put you off, but I need to separate the two things. I don't want to tarnish our moment by having it happen today."

"Tomorrow then," he promises, with a final squeeze of her hand.

 **A/N: Don't worry, there's more to come!**


	2. Chapter 2

She fixes her hat nervously, waiting in the kitchen for Molesley whilst he changes out of his livery.

They had barely seen each other all morning: by the time she had dressed Her Ladyship and seen to Thomas, preparations had been underway for lunchtime service. There had been chance for a brief word over breakfast, consisting of him nervously asking if she was still alright to walk with him.

"Of course," she had replied, hoping that her smile could quell the nerves evident on his face. He had looked slightly more relaxed – but only just.

* * *

By the time lunchtime service is over, he is already frazzled. He changes quickly out of his livery; fiddles nervously with the buttons of his coat. All morning he'd been running through what to tell her – the things he wants her to know.

* * *

"How was Mr Barrow this morning?" he asks gently, once they've started walking down the driveway.

"Better," she says, relief colouring her voice. "Stronger."

"I'm glad."

"Me too," she murmurs quietly.

He offers her a soft smile.

"Mr Carson has told him he can stay on," she tells him. "He's needed now if we're to lose you to the 'groves of academe'," she smiles, mimicking Mr Carson.

"Will he stay, after everything?" he wonders.

"He hasn't said yet," she admits. "But he has friends here, no matter what he might think – it's where he belongs."

He agrees with a quiet hum.

"And do you think I should go?" he asks earnestly.

She looks thoughtful, weighing her answer in her mind. "I agree with what you said yesterday - that you should wait for a while longer, give it some more time," she answers eventually. "But if it makes you happy, then yes, I do."

He nods. Out of the corner of her eye she sees him straighten his back – it would be imperceptible, but she's become so finely attuned to his presence that there's nothing he could do that she wouldn't be aware of. This action, she knows, means he is gearing up to say something that he's afraid to.

"If I leave, will you miss me?" he murmurs, voice quiet.

And she can't believe she hadn't realised earlier – if he did choose to become a teacher full-time, he'd have to move out of the house, move into a cottage in the village perhaps.

"Well that rather depends, Mr Molesley," she says with a smile, and he detects a flicker of hope in the gesture.

"On what?"

"On what you wanted to tell me," she answers. "It's tomorrow."

She sees the dawning comprehension in his eyes as he realises she's given him the opening he needs.

They've made it to privacy of the tree-lined path to the school house, and it's only in their seclusion that he feels confident enough to stop and turn to face her.

She watches a myriad of emotions cross his face within a few moments – all forms of fear she can put a name to, and then a hopeful nervousness.

"I should have told you long before now," he admits, abashed. "I should have told you the moment I realised, though I can't trace exactly when that was. Probably embarrassingly too soon," he blushes. "But I love you, and I can't keep it to myself any longer."

"I wouldn't want you to," she smiles, and is surprised to find her vision clouding with tears as she replies. "I love you too, and I _can_ pinpoint the moment I realised," she admits. "I only knew because I was certain I was going to lose you, when I told you my story. I said back then that I was loathe to forfeit your good opinion, but that night in the courtyard, I realised it was more than that. I couldn't lose you."

"You never have," he tells her fervently. "Not for one second have you lost my good opinion, or my love."

A sob rises within her – his unerring devotion to her over the years is something she never believed she deserved, especially not from someone as wonderful as him.

"Of course I will miss you if you leave – I don't want to lose you now either," she tells him, hoping he can read between the lines and work out what she's asking, or rather prompting him to ask.

"Marry me then," he murmurs, and there's no hesitation in his words. "Be my wife, and live with me in our own cottage in the village."

Her delighted smile warms his heart.

"Of course I will," she breathes.

She takes his arm as they continue down the lane, finally content in the path their lives are taking.

 **A/N: The End. I hope you enjoyed reading!**


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